letra de sunday finale - stephen sondheim
[george, spoken]
dot, why did you write these words?
[dot, spoken]
they are your words, george. the ones you muttered so often when you worked
[george, spoken]
“order”
“design”
“tension”
“composition”
“balance”
“light”
dot, i cannot read this word
[dot, spoken]
harmony
[company]
sunday
by the blue
purple yellow red water
on the green
purple yellow red gr-ss
as we p-ss
through arrangements of shadows
towards the verticals of tree
[george, spoken]
so much love
in his words…
forever with his colors…
how george looks…
he can look forever…
what does he see? his eyes
so dark and shiny… so careful… so exact…
[company]
forever
by the blue
purple yellow red water
on the green
orange violet m-ss
of the gr-ss
[dot]
in our perfect park
[george]
made of flecks of light
and dark
[company]
and parasols…
people strolling through the trees
of a small suburban park
on an island in the river
on an ordinary sunday…
sunday…
sunday…
[george, spoken]
white. a blank page of canvas. his favorite. so many possibilities…
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